To Leave the Black Behind
by Sable Supernova
Summary: Isla Black married muggle Bob Hitchens, that much is known. Join me to relive the fateful night when she left the Black family behind for good.


_Written for The Minor Characters Competition: Isla Black_

_Written for The Carzy 8s Competition: Vivacious, Quilt_

_Written for the Take a Prompt Leave a Prompt Challenge: Memory Quilt_

_Submitted into The Harry Potter Day Competition_

* * *

Isla looked at the quilt in wonder. It spanned four generations of the Black family, each square painstakingly stitched by hand by each of the women of the Black family. Her great grandmother, each of her great aunts and her grandmother, her mother and aunts and her cousins and sister all had their own square. 25 squares made a blanket the perfect size to swaddle a baby with.

As she looked at the intricate details in the needlework, she saw everything that she would be leaving behind. The centre square, her great-grandmother's, complete with the black roses, a star, and the motto, _Toujours Pur_. A square to the left was a scene of her Great Aunt Liza's cottage by the sea. The Black family had strength in numbers, and great loyalty to those with the same moral compass. They knew how to keep things, and people, close to themselves. They were ambitious, too, oh yes. Her brother, Phineas, had just made Deputy Head at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, one of the youngest ever to win the position.

She wondered if they would understand that those were the same reasons she had for doing this. There was strength in numbers, and Isla felt strong with him. He would be loyal, she knew, and so she wanted to repay that loyalty. She knew how to keep him close to her, and she would follow through. Her ambition, then, extended to nothing more than her love of Robert, Mr Bob Hitchens, and she would marry him, by any means. She folded the quilt into neat squares, the quilt with so many memories, and placed it into the top of her suitcase. She glanced at the grandfather clock. Two hours. Two hours left to pack her life up and be gone. With shaking hands, she opened a drawer and began to sort through her things, knowing she would never have the chance again.

* * *

Bob Hitchens waited. He was usually a patient man, but that night, the suspense had him tapping his foot when he sat and pacing the room when he stood. He was waiting for Miss Isla Black.

The waiting room at King's Cross Station was dusty. The dark wood of the benches and wall panels made it seem a lot later than it was, while the clock on the wall ticked the time bay far too slowly. He clutched the two tickets in his hand like they were his lifeline to her, and to the new life they were about to begin.

He'd first met her in May, when Spring and Summer meet and aren't sure which one is stronger. She was out picking flowers and herbs on the moors while he walked one morning, and she had seemed so vivacious, so full of life, that she was captivating. She was unafraid of anything, telling him she was collecting ingredients for a potion she wanted to make, with a playful smile. He hadn't believed her then. Bob Hitchens had walked that way, at that time, every morning since that day in May. He mused that they would have to find a new walk in Hertford that they could both enjoy.

When she'd told him she was a witch, the energy she exuded with the words was electric, like the light bulbs he'd seen at the University. He was not afraid. It made perfect sense to him that this woman, this bright, funny, stubborn, raven haired beauty of a woman should also be magic. Isla Black had always seemed magical to him, halfway between a dream and a nightmare, because he'd been shown someone so brilliant, and after tonight, he may never know her again.

But she would be here. She had to be here. She had promised, had she not? The 12th September, 1873 at a quarter past seven. That was what she'd said. Bob looked at the clock. It was five minutes past seven, and their train would leave in seventeen minutes. He remembered his promise, then. His promise that he would be on that train with or without her.

* * *

Isla Black was running late. She knew she would have to Apparate to King's Cross, but she would have to get out of this house first. Grimmauld Place had seemed like a good choice when they had first moved in, but the limitations of living so close to the Muggles had soon become apparent. They'd enchanted the home to be as invisible to the non-Magical eye as possible, but it was still difficult to enter and leave.

Her first obstacle was dinner. She'd claimed sickness to be excused from the family meal that evening, which had held. Now, she tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as she could on an effort to not be heard. When she had reached the large front door, she felt free already.

A small number of Muggles were around in the street, but none were looking towards the houses. As Isla walked into the street, she briefly wondered if she should have left a note, or if the quilt in her suitcase would be missed. She didn't take anything else that belonged to the Black family name. She didn't need any more reminders. She was hoping that her own name would not be Black for much longer.

Stepping into a dark alley, Isla Black Apparated to King's Cross station and headed straight for the waiting room.

* * *

When Bob finally saw Isla that night, she did not stand with her usual vivaciousness. Her dark hair still shone as it always did, under her bonnet, but her eyes looked weary. The dark green coat she wore over her emerald dress brought out the forest in her eyes, and Bob Hitchens smiled. Isla looked up at him then, and mirrored the joy on his face. She walked towards him and the pair embraced, drinking in each other's scent.

"You came," he whispered to her.

"What other choice could I have made and still been happy?" she asked him.

Bob began to fumble in his pocket for something, and Isla was a little confused. Did they not have a train to board?

"Isla, in an effort to do things at least in the right order, if not properly," Bob began, turning his blue eyes on her. "Will you marry me?" he asked, as he pulled a small ring box from his pocket. The ring inside was quite small; simple and elegant. The yellow gold surrounded a circle of diamonds, and Isla immediately thought of the ring her brother had bought for his bride, Ursula. That one had been garish and loud, ostentatious. This ring, the one Bob was showing her right now, was nothing like that. It was perfect.

"Yes," she said, breaking out into a smile.


End file.
